Beauty and the Veela
by DramioneInLove
Summary: He's a Veela, she's his mate. All should go fine, the fairy tale should end well. Except that things are far from that easy. And in hope to win his mate over to him, he must first end the terrible curse that makes a Beast of him...Freely Inspired from "Beauty and the Beast". My submission for Do-Me-Veela fest on LJ.
1. Prologue

**Title: Beauty and the Veela**

**Author: dramioneinlove**

**Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Ronald Weasley/Lavender Brown**

**Prompt #: Number 13**

**Rating: NC-17 (M)**

**Word Count: around 17.700**

**Summary: He's a Veela, she's his mate. All should go fine, the fairy tale should end well. Except that things are far from that easy. And in hope to win his mate over to him, he must first end the terrible curse that makes a Beast of him...Freely Inspired from "Beauty and the Beast". My submission for Do-Me-Veela fest on LJ.**

**Warning(s): Profanity, Minor Character Death, Explicit Sexual Situations**

**Beta: hpbeta**

**Disclaimer: This piece of art or fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.**

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**Once Upon A Time...**

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Bellatrix's red, glossy lips twisted into some kind of sick smirk. Immediately, Narcissa and Lucius were wary. Narcissa Malefoy stood before the crib, adorned with pretty white curtains, as if to protect her sleeping baby, and Lucius took up a defensive stance between his wife and her sister.

"I understand," said Narcissa in a soothing voice to Bellatrix, hands turned up in peace. "You have every right to be furious that I didn't invite you to the party following Draco's birth. I'm so, so sorry, Bella."

Bellatrix cast her younger sister a cold gaze through half-hooded eyes and twirled her wand between her fingers.

"You still managed to invite our traitor sister Andromeda, did you not?" she asked in a soft, menacing voice.

Lucius took a step forward to his sister-in-law and retorted icily,

"Understand us, Bellatrix. You have been yearning for a child for years now. You were furious when Cissy announced that she was pregnant. We couldn't put Draco to risk. You are furious, we know that, but we had every right to be wary. If ever you turned mad and made a scene..."

"I see," stated Bellatrix coldly. "You didn't want me near him. You thought that your mad sister would hurt him, so you cast me aside. Me, Cissy. Your sister, your friend, your confident."

"Please, Bella, calm down," pleaded softly Narcissa.

"Well, I may or may not have thrown a deadly tantrum if you'd invited me, Cissy, but as it is, you are a traitor to me," cut Bellatrix. "And all crime deserves punishment."

She turned her eyes to the crib. Narcissa's own eyes widened.

"You wouldn't...you won't touch him! Your nephew...my son!"

"I truly wouldn't have touched Draco, my sister's son," replied Bellatrix in a freezing tone, licking her lips, "but you know that I will hurt Draco, my traitor sister's son."

"If you ever touch my son, so Merlin help me..." bellowed Lucius, leaping forward.

Before he knew it, Bellatrix's wand cut through the air and the moment after, both Narcissa and Lucius Malefoy were bound on the floor, disarmed, at her feet. She smirked coldly.

"You mad creature!" screeched Lucius, eyes turning dark in fury. "All that for a bloody carton..."

"By not inviting me, Bellatrix Lestrange, you humiliated me in front of the whole Wizarding society," claimed Bellatrix, brow furrowing in anger. "That is no petty thing."

She stepped to the crib, looking down in distaste. A tiny child was fast asleep, pale blond hair adorning his beautiful features.

"Such a beautiful infant," muttered Bellatrix. "He looks like an angel. No, what am I saying? He looks like a blasted Veela."

She grinned in Lucius' direction.

"I do believe, Lucius, that Veela blood runs in the Malfoy family for a while now? I even heard that it's taken on quite a funny pattern. It jumps a generation, doesn't it? So, Abraxas, your own father, came into his Veela heritage. You didn't. Your son will, though."

She stopped for a moment, a mad plan coming to her, then smiled.

"A Veela has a mate, doesn't it? Even part Veelas like Draco do. And to attract his mate he'll need everything his heritage throws at him. Namely, beauty. Sex appeal. Charm. I wonder if Draco would manage to survive his twenty-fifth birthday without his mate? No, of course not. Veelas come to their heritage on their twentieth birthday. If by age twenty-five they haven't mated, they die, right?"

She was grinning madly now.

"Oh, this is too good to be true. Plus, it is lyrical. I wasn't there for his birth but I'll live and die knowing his death is on me. Now, to ensure his mate will never and I mean ever fall for him, well, I'm sorry to say that I'll have to remove his remarkable Veela beauty when he comes into his heritage. No woman would fall for a man who resembles a beast, even if he's a nice character. A curse would do that nicely."

Laughing now, she whipped her wand out and pointed it upon Draco's tiny head, muttering away. Slowly, the child's body wrapped in gold light, then all faded away, leaving him as innocent, pretty and sleepful as he was before.

Bellatrix stepped away from the crib, giggling, and looked at a crying Narcissa and a yelling Lucius.

"That'll do the trick. As soon as Draco comes into his heritage, he'll turn into such a monstrous creature that he won't even be able to have a walk outside without people trying to kill the awful, ugly beast he will be. He'll never find his mate and even if, he'd die because she wouldn't want him. However, fret not. I have left him a tiny chance. If he manages the feat to get his mate to love him, then he will turn back to his beautiful self. Of course I left him a chance. He is my nephew after all. I'm not cruel."

With a peal of high-pitched laughter at her joke, Bellatrix flounced out of the room, her black robes billowing in her wake.

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**Author's Notes:**

**Review, please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks for all your reviews! Chapter 1 here.**

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24 Years Later

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Hermione giggled as Ron's sorry face met her gaze. She sent a newspaper flying through the air to hit him square in the nose, and he let out a yelp, glaring at her. Harry, Ginny on his lap, snickered at Ron's lethal gaze.

"Oh, come on, Ron," she laughed. "It won't be that bad, I promise."

He muttered something under his breath before standing, his gangly feature hovering over her desk in the Ministry.

"I just don't like the idea, Hermione."

"Ron," she stated with a great deal of patience, as if explaining to a young child. "I survived a war. I came best at everything in Hogwarts. I kicked arses all around the place and I'm Head of a whole division in the Ministry. It's not as if I can't look after myself."

"But Hermione," he whined. "They say that there are plenty of things in that Forest. Werewolves and vampires and huge flesh-eating monsters and escapees of justice. And," he added, a tad lower and shivering all over, "there are spiders."

Ginny let out a bark of laughter at that, burying her head in her fiancé's shoulder to escape her brother's furious glare.

"Cut it, Ginny," he snapped before turning on Hermione. "Please. Don't go."

"It's not like I'm going in the Winter Forest unprepared, Ron," she sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "I sent out a patrol first."

Ron nodded in reluctance.

Hermione, at twenty-five years old, was Head of the Magical Creature's Welfare and Protection division in the Magical Being's department of the Ministry. As such, she travelled across the world to find, register and protect magical species, with ten people under her orders. However, this time, she wouldn't be scouring deserts in Africa or walking across jungles in Asia. The Winter Forest in Wiltshire, England, was home to an unique population of Scampbees, tiny pink bees who scampered around on two feet kissing flowers to make them multiply. She needed to register the Scampbees, and as this was the biggest colony ever reported, had decided to go herself, even though the Winter Forest was an awful place, icy and dark all year round and, as Ron said, full of uncomely monsters. She would have been foolish to storm into the Forest all alone, and Hermione was anything but, so she had decided to send a couple of her employees to scan the place first.

"All right, guys," she said, standing up, "let's go have some lunch. But first, Ron, please call in Daria Williams and Old Bill. I'll send them first."

As her friends left to wait for her in the corridor, Daria Williams and Old Bill entered her office. Daria was a pretty, blond young woman, always smiling and nice. Old Bill aka Bill Hensley was quite the opposite. He was limping, always snapping at everyone and everything, and was at least seventy, but he wouldn't leave the job.

Hermione explained that they must go that afternoon to the woods to have a look round before she went in alone. They nodded, and she finally left for lunch.

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"Stop complaining," moaned Daria as they approached the Scampbee nests. "I'm sick of it."

"How dare you," growled Old Bill, casting her a nasty look. "Geez, you are such a bitch, aren't you? All because you're young and pretty and servile...well, I tell you this, lass. I'm better a Magical Creature Officer than you'll ever be."

"Oh, please," she scoffed in disbelief, smiling at the Scampbees that hovered around her, curious. "You are far too old for the job now, Old Bill. Find a nice cottage and stay put."

Old Bill growled again then announced:

"I need a pee."

"Charming."

She rolled her eyes as the old git went further into the woods out of her sight. He peed quietly against a tree, then suddenly, his eyes were drawn to something. Beyond the trees, it seemed to the old man like he saw a crumbling wall. Intrigued, Old Bill slipped through the woods, forgetting his partner, and arrived in front of a huge mansion, half falling in ruins. His eyes widened and, curious, he walked up to the gate, ornated with two giant metal snakes coiled and poised that did intimidate him.

He caressed softly the gate, and it creaked open under his hands. He knew exactly where he was.

Several years before, at the end of the war, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been murdered here. The corpse of their son had not been found, though his blood was found in several places over the Manor. The violence of the crimes had shocked the Wizarding world, even though the Malfoys were hated by many. The killers had never been found, even though some suspected Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's loving follower, to have done the task. The only problem was that Bellatrix had herself perished during the battle in Hogwarts. Others suspected Draco Malfoy, the son himself, to have murdered his parents, even though he had no reason to do so. And, the enquiry had pointed out that, though Draco's body wasn't found, the young man had to be dead himself: so much blood had been lost by the Malfoy heir that it was impossible for a human being to survive the loss.

No witnesses had been there either, which was quite strange. Early in the evening, the House Elf servants of the Manor had all been sent by Lucius and Narcissa on different errands, and they had no visitors that night. No-one had breached the powerful wards, so they must have known their killer, who simply had to knock on the door. Unless of course, Draco himself had committed the deed, but, deeply hurt from the ensuing fight, had dragged himself out of the home and died somewhere in the Forest, leaving his body for the scavengers to eat.

Things had never been cleared, and truth be told, Old Bill had completely forgotten that the famous Manor was around here. Thrilled about the thought to have a morbid stroll through the place and by the idea of leaving the meddling little Daria to fend for herself in the woods a moment, Old Bill walked into the huge garden.

Immediately, the gates slammed shut behind him, making him whimper. Old Bill was no brave man. He turned back to the Manor, and decided that, since he couldn't go back, he must go forward. Suddenly afraid, Old Bill limped across the forlorn grounds, up the outdoor steps, and stopped in front of the huge, iron-wrought, oak door. He gulped. Magic was in the air, very old magic, whispering in his ears, grasping onto his heart, breaking his bones. And before Old Bill could try to open the door, it swung on its hinges.

He blinked, looking down. A small house elf, female, with a long, pointed nose and short ears, gazed up in fear.

"You must leaves," squeaked the creature in a scared voice, glancing all around, knuckles turning white as it held onto the door knob. "The Master shall not bes happy, oh no, nots happy at alls."

Old Bill was at a loss. He thought the Malfoy Manor empty, as its owners were dead since almost eight years know. And here turned up a tiny, scared elf, warning him away without even asking him who he was or what he wanted?

"You must leaves," repeated the tiny elf, pushing against his leg. "Leaves, and never returns. The Master woulds be furious. Yes, furious."

"What are you talking about?" asked Old Bill slyly, peeping into the night-black hall behind the elf. "Which Master? Who lives in this place? Did some homeless person turn up here? This was the home of the Malfoys, surely you know that? You are trespassing!"

Sure, he was too. But he felt entitled to, in a strange way. The elf was clearly anxious now, pulling her short ears and moaning.

"You must leaves! The Master is comings, I knows it! You must leaves if you wants to lives!"

As Old Bill opened his mouth to answer, a huge, ferocious roar resounded through the Manor and the night. The old man stilled, eyes widening.

"I trieds," whimpered the elf, "Bonny trieds to protects you, but you nots listenings. Master knows you is here nows. He is comings for you..."

With a shudder, the tiny creature retreated from the doorway, leaving it half open. Old Bill hesitated between running far away from this haunted place and stepping in to meet the monster head-on. He was a Magical Creatures Officer after all. He was entitled to curiosity.

And then it was too late to decide. A magical force propelled him inside, door slamming behind his forced entry, and he landed hard upon a dusty, marble floor. He grunted in pain, before looking up, to find himself on the business end of a hawthorn wand.

The person behind the wand wass clearly tall, and amazingly, a set of two jet black, feathered wings sprouted out of its back. It being hooded, Old Bill could not recognize any face. It was wearing gloves too. Old Bill scrunched up his features in fright and pain. Those wings resembled those of a Veela, but...Veela's wings were a pure white, not black like this. He shuddered. Was the person a mix between a Veela and a kind of demon?

Now that he thought about it, a Veela was a naturally proud creature. It would never hide its figure if it could help it.

Something else struck the old man too. The person had a strange way of standing, as if it was hunchbacked. Its legs seemed to have knees far lower than the usual man or woman. And it truly was huge. Old Bill cowered as an icy cold, but rasping voice, came out from under the hood. Cutting, unforgivable.

"Who are you? How dare you trespass my land?"

Old Bill caughed, and tried to stand, but a menacing wave of the wand kept him kneeling.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he breathed in distress. "I didn't mean...I was in the Forest and I saw the Manor and I...I didn't think..."

"Apparently not," cut the cold voice, that was definitely male. "Came to see if the legends were true, did you? If blood was splattered on the walls? If, maybe, Draco Malfoy's dead body was rotting somewhere where none other looked before?"

Old Bill whined, and a cruel laugh came from the hooded feature.

"Now tell me," said the voice, "why I should not kill you."

"No!" squealed Old Bill, cowering upon his sorry self. "No, please, no! I'll give you anything, everything, please!"

"Because you think, foolish idiot, that you might have something that interests me?"

"Please, Sir, I swear! I'll give you what you want..."

"Shut up, bickering fool! Legilimens!"

Old Bill whimpered. He couldn't keep the stranger out of his head, and besides, maybe the man would find something to his liking in there. Images of his money, his home, his long-lost wife and his traitor son, his young years, his deepest secrets flew past his eyes, giving him a headache. Then suddenly, as the stranger flitted through his memories and thoughts of work, Hermione Granger's face appeared. Instantly, the man was out of his head, choking on his own breath, clutching his chest. The elf, Bonny, worried, trotted up, but the man stopped her with a gloved hand up in her direction. He then proceeded to mutter something to himself, while absent-mindedly stalking up and down the entry. Suddenly, he was hovering over Old Bill, wings flapping in an aggressive manner, the old man's neck squeezed between gloved fingers.

"What business do you have," he hissed, "with Hermione Granger? Speak, or you shall not live to see another day!"

Old Bill gulped, choking on his spit, and managed to gurgle as unnaturally sharp nails, more like claws, pierced the gloves and drew blood drops from his flesh.

"She's...my...boss," he managed to get out at last.

"Where is she," snarled the stranger.

"I...I don't know! At the Ministry, at her home..."

The man let go and resumed his pacing and muttering, tense. He seemed to be taking a life-saving decision.

"Tomorrow," he finally said, "you shall bring her to me."

"W...What?" spluttered Old Bill.

"Do I need to repeat?" hissed the stranger. "If you do not, I shall find you and I shall kill you...and if you need an incentive..."

The man suddenly pulled his hood down.

Old Bill began to scream in utter horror. He screeched, a never-lasting sound torn from his throat, as he scrambled away. The man, or rather, the thing, the Beast, fluttered its black wings in annoyance.

"Bring her to me, talk to no-one about this," he growled. "Or you shall die..."

Old Bill, terrified, managed to jump to his trembling feet, nodding furiously, and bolted for the door, still screaming.

As soon as his screams were lost in the air, the Beast's head hung low, and two thick tears streamed down its face. Bonny, the elf, approached, and let a soothing hand pat her Master's own.

"Did you sees her?" asked the elf brightly, hoping to up his mood. "Master. Did you sees her?"

"I did," responded softly the Master. "I know her well. Helas, of all the women on this Earth, it had to be her..."

"I is sures," said Bonny gently, "that if shes is the ones chosen for beings my Master's mate, she wills love you nos matter what."

"I doubt that," he said sadly. "And it is only three months before my twenty-fifth birthday, Bonny."

"Bonny is sures," insisted the elf. "If shes is the one chosen for beings yours mate, she is soft enough to loves you no matter what."

The Master turned away, then shuddered as his wings retracted into his back.

"Go," he said. "Go to the kitchens, and prepare supper with your son."

At the mention of Laddy, Bonny's son, her face brightened and she trotted off.

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**A/N: Read and review, please.**


	3. Chapter 2

"What are we doing here?" Hermione snapped, shivering, as Old Bill cringed. The young woman stood before Malfoy Manor's iron gates, the spooky, huge home towering over them. Old Bill gulped and replied,

"I must show you something I discovered yesterday..."

She looked at him.

"I've been tortured during the war in this blasted place, Bill. I was Draco Malfoy's enemy and school rival. I'm a so-called Mudblood. Why ever would I walk into a place where the whole family was slaughtered years ago?"

"I told you, boss," he finally answered with a sweeping arm motion. "I've found something of the utmost interest yesterday."

She sighed. Damn her curiosity! Pursing her lips, she finally replied,

"Well, let's go."

They made their way up to the oak door, which immediately opened upon a tiny elf. Hermione's jaw fell.

"What the...!"

"Oh, missus," squealed the elf, gazing up to Hermione in adoration. "You's is finally here, at last! Oh, the Master shall be so pleased..."

Hermione simply stared. She then turned to Old Bill who averted his eyes, clearly self-conscious. She frowned, but before she could say anything, the tiny elf ushered her in, gazing at her in adoration. Before Old Bill could move, the door smacked in his nose. The old man wasn't ready to stay around to see the Beast again, so he simply ran away before Disapparating to safety. The Beast had told him not to tell anyone. He wouldn't.

Inside, Hermione was frowning at the elf.

"Who are you? What does this mean? Why didn't you let Old Bill in? What is..."

She strolled to the door, which suddenly produced a clear locking sound. Swirling around, she saw the elf looking uneasily at her, fingers twitching.

"I is sorry, missus, but yous is nots to leave the Manor."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You is to stays here, to saves the Master!" squeaked the elf. "Master shalls explain alls of it to yous, but for nows, follows me."

Hermione angrily grasped her wand and pointed it to the door.

"Alohomora!"

Nothing happened.

"Alohomora, I said!"

"It is of no uses, missus," cut in the elf. "The door only responds to my Master or the servants. Sames for the other doors and windows."

Hermione glared at her. The elf finally said, wringing her hands:

"I is Bonny. Please follow mes missus. You is to stay heres for a few weeks. Then, if my Master is nots cured, you shalls go."

Though Hermione wanted to slap the creature around the nose for daring making her a prisoner, she knew that it was only obeying to a Master, and decided to slap said Master instead. Huffing in anger, she followed the creature up into dark, damp, dead corridors of the Manor.

"Who is your Master?"

The elf cringed and replied,

"Yous shall sees. Tonights, my Master is awaitings yous at dinners."

"He has another thing coming," she muttered under her breath.

"Sorry, missus? Bonny did nots hear yous."

"Nothing," she replied curtly.

"We is arrived."

The tiny creature opened a door, and Hermione took in her surroundings. It was a huge room, painted in old green and grey. Tapestries representing hunting scenes were hung upon the walls, and worn rugs scattered upon the ground. The huge bed seemed old, and was four-postered. Though everything here reminded old times, better ones, where the Manor must have been a place of magnificence, it was at least clean, which could not be said of the whole area.

"Does missus like it?"

Hermione turned a scathing gaze upon the elf and bit out,

"I would prefer sleeping in my own house. Now, what is the meaning of this?"

"My Masters shall explains," retorted the elf. "Missus is not to leave befores suppers."

"And who says I do intend on having supper with your Master?"

The elf's eyes opened wide and she almost screamed,

"Please missus! Yous is Master's only chances! You cannot declines! The Master shalls be furious..."

"I'll go then," replied Hermione dully. "But only to tell your Master to stuff it. If he wanted help, he could have asked for it, instead of going around bloody abducting people."

With that, she sulked off towards the window, clearly dismissing the creature.

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"Well, Bonny?"

"To tells the truth, Master," replied the elf, fiddling her pillowcase, "Shes is nots happy at alls. She says that the Master coulds have asked hers for helps, instead of kidnapping hers."

"Well, I didn't," pointed out the Master coldly, "her dear co-worker did. Besides, once she knows the truth..." he trailed off, and Bonny instantly was by his side.

"Master is nots to frets. Shes is the one."

"I know that, Bonny. I can sense her here," shivered the Beast. "I can smell her as if my nose was upon her bare skin. I want, I need to claim her as mine. If not for this curse, we could have been together already for years. I want to storm up into her room and throw her upon the bed and blasted ravish her until she agrees to never, ever leave my side again..."

He sighed and added,

"But of course, if I entered her room, she would probably throw herself out of the window at my sight. No-one stands monsters."

"I thinks that if the missus was chosens for yours mate," decided Bonny wisely, patting her Master's hand, "she has a dear hearts, and is ready to overlooks your appearances."

"Maybe so," cackled the hooded Master, "but remember, she was my enemy. She hates my guts. If only I had known...plus, do you remember what happened when Mother and Father died..."

"Yous were nots responsibles for thats!" cried out Bonny. "Yous were nots!"

"No-one will see it that way," replied the Master, his face set in a grim line. "Besides, how am I supposed to break the news? And how will I even be able to stay in the room without jumping upon her to make her mine? I am ugly and horrible, but I am, before anything, a Veela, Bonny. I have instincts. In a normal case, she would not resist me. She would spread her arms open in invite. But she will not. How do I cope with that?"

"Master is rights. Master is a Veelas. So, Master values missus' well-being afores everything. Thus, he shalls not hurts her or try to mates her without her consents, because she wills be afraids and then Master will dies of sorrow."

He almost smiled at that.

"You are right, Bonny. Go and prepare dinner, now."

"Yes Master."

.

Now, if Bonny had really thought that Hermione Granger was a woman to blandly follow orders without question, such as donning a nice dress and going to dinner en tête à tête with the person who had ordered her to be kidnapped, then the elf was in for quite a surprise. As soon as she presented Hermione with the pretty purple, velvet fabric, the dress came sailing across the room to finish out of the window. Bonny looked outraged, and Hermione simply glared back.

"The Master puts so much faiths in yous," scowled Bonny, "buts yous do nots deserves the Master!"

"Too bad, then," shot back the young woman, "I'm going to swoon out of sadness."

"The Master is a goods men," howled Bonny. "He is alones and sad and angrys and no-one evers loved him, excepts his parents, and nows he is cursed and he musts get helps otherwises he is dead! And yous does nots want to help! Yous only wants to leaves! I was wrong tellings the Master thats you is a nice persons!"

Hermione seemed dumbstruck as the tiny creature continued its rant. The elf, and her so-called Master, had placed faith in her, Merlin knows why, and instead of going along with it and trying to help them, thus approaching her freedom, she had to mistreat Bonny. Well, the elf had a temper, and she was having none of Hermione's behavior. Bonny finally drew herself to her full height, which was far from tall but still quite impressive, slitted her eyes, and raised a prophetic finger.

"I suggests that yous gets dress," she snapped. "And goes to dinner with my Master. Otherwises, I shall bes unhappy. Plus, if yous don't have supper with the Master, he shalls be angry."

"Let him be," she muttered, cross, before waltzing into her bathroom to prepare.

After all, if the Master needed her help and it was her only way to get out...she'd readily do it. Before getting him arrested for trespassing and abduction.

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The Master became restless as he scented her nearing, long before he heard or saw her. Sitting at the end of a long table, where Voldemort had once hosted meetings for his dark followers, he grasped the wood with his leather-gloved hands and inhaled sharply. He may be nought more than a Beast physically, but his senses were those of a Veela.

A Veela whose mate was trudging down the stairs in the entry on the other side of the door. His muscles packed as if he wished to pounce on her, pin her down, and have his wicked way with the witch.

The door swung slowly open. He inhaled sharply, and then she entered, a hesitant step, and it was Heaven and Hell all in one. He had recognized her through the old fool's memories, and his senses had tugged at him, telling him that she was his mate. Before that, he had managed to persuade himself that he would die. He'd never find his one and only, and even if, Bellatrix's spell was enough to ensure that no woman would ever fall for his charms. He had fooled around before entering his Veela heritage, sure. But since...and time was almost up...His Veela senses screamed at him, but he managed to tamper them down and gazed at her from under his hood.

She was standing there in the purple dress that had once been one of his mother's favorites, and had clasped her hands stiffly in front of her. She was observing him warily. Gulping down the bitterness in his throat, he put his goblet of wine down and stood.

"Miss Granger," he rasped out coolly. "Please, sit."

"I do not intend on doing so," she replied icily. "If you wanted my help, Sir, you should have asked me. I'll have you know that you are trespassing on the Malfoy grounds and abducting a Ministry Head of Department. Please release me."

She couldn't see his features, but never had she met a man so tall and bulky. He seemed to have problems. He was hunchbacked, for a start. His voice was cold and raspy and masculine, but she thought that she remembered it from somewhere...besides, something, call it instinct maybe, was pulling her to this man. She shuddered to get rid of the odd feeling and raised an expectant eyebrow his way instead, taking a perverse pleasure mingled with sadness as his shoulders slumped a tad.

"I will not," he growled. "However, fret not, Miss Granger. This shall end in June, at the very latest."

"June is three months from here," she barked out. "I have a bloody life, you know!"

A menacing groan issued from the cloaked figure and she finally snapped, marching forward to ease out her seat before sitting.

"There. Can we talk business now?"

The Beast rolled its eyes. Why did his mate have to be such a blasted swot?

.

"I don't understand, Mummy."

Bonny rolled her eyes and retrieved the lamb from the oven.

"Whats don't you understand?"

"The lady. She is very pretties and alls, but she cannots be the Master's mates."

"Ah?" chuckled the mother elf, sprinkling herbs over the lamb. "And why nots?"

"Because she is so beautifuls," announced Laddy, gazing up into his mother's face. "Ands in the stories, the princesses always finish with the handsomes princes."

"Wells, you are too youngs to understands that when hes is born, our Master is cursed," explained Bonny while surveying her potatoes. "By his aunt..." she shivered as she remembered the cold, mad, beautiful Death Eater that was Bellatrix Lestrange. "Befores the curse worked outs, the Master was a beautiful mans...and if the missus cans fall in loves with the Master befores his next birthday, he shall become pretties again."

"Well if he really was that handsomes," piped up the tiny elf cub after thought, "he is just to show the missus a photos of him before his curses took effects and she wills fall in loves with him."

Bonny stared at her son.

"Aye, yous has strange thoughts, dearest. Yous remember me of my old brother, Dobby."

She shook her head and wiped her petite hands on her apron.

"Laddy, life is nots a fairy tales. Not always does things finish well."

"Likes daddy," replied immediately the infant.

"Yes," muttered Bonny, thinking sadly of her dead spouse. "Yes, like daddy."

"But yous could haves a happy ends too," huffed Laddy, crossing his scrawny arms. "Yous is in loves with the gardener. I knows it."

She whipped his bottom with a towel, turning red:

"Shame on yous, Laddy, to say such things! And wes are house elves, not humans, so wes don't haves happy endings as in fairy tales, period. Nows, be careful as I serve the Master and the missus, and don't touch anythings!"

.

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	4. Chapter 3

When Bonny scuttled in with the roast lamb and vegetables hovering with magic in front of her, the room was dead silent. Hermione was glaring at the Master and the Master was glaring right back.

The elf returned to the kitchens after serving them, and Hermione stabbed into her meat with a vengeance, before letting her cutlery fall in her plate, and snarling,

"Will you at least tell me your name?"

The Beast sighed.

"It is a long story. Before I reveal anything to you, you must promise that you shall try to help me."

Surprised, Hermione thought a moment before asking carefully,

"And if I refuse to promise such a thing? Will you let me free?

"Or I will chain you up in the dungeons and leave you to rot," he growled back.

_Indeed_. She nodded slowly and replied,

"I promise to try, in that case. No-one says, however, that I shall actually manage to help you."

The Master sat back, and twirled his wine glass between his gloved fingers.

"Well," he started slowly. "You shall learn many things tonight. I know that you hate me, Miss Granger..."

"You have no idea," she breathed, but he still managed to hear it and smirked back:

"Oh, no, darling. I think that _you_ have no idea."

He brought the wine to his lips and drank before adding,

"When I came to this world, I was cursed by a crazed, jealous witch to become a monster. And that happened quite well, which is why I am hooded. It is for your convenience. However, you must understand something else. I am also part Veela. I guess you know something about them?"

She instantly jumped to lecture mode:

"Of course! Veelas are magical creatures. They are sexual ones, too, and only promise lifelong love to one human being, called mate..."

His fingers came up and she stilled.

"I have no doubt that you know everything one could ever know about Veelas. In fact, I suspect you to know more about them, us, then we do ourselves. Anyway..."

She couldn't help but blush in pleasure at his comment. He noticed it, and held a smile in his voice as he continued:

"So I have a mate, indeed, Miss Granger. Now, I guess you know what I mean if I tell you that my twenty-fifth birthday is coming in June?"

She gasped, one hand flying to her mouth.

"You haven't found her yet?"

"No," he lied easily. "And even so, with my curse, I wouldn't be able to attract her to me."

"Oh, dear," she muttered, before brightening. "I know why you want me to help! I'm Head of Magical Creatures Department...you want me to help you find her!"

He seemed taken aback a moment, before hissing out slowly.

"I...yesss."

"Well, that is simple, really," she replied. "I should be able to look up the register in the Ministry and..."

"You don't understand," he cut through. "You are not leaving the Manor. You are not returning to the Ministry, darling. Not until my birthday."

Her jaw went slack and she uttered in disbelief,

"What? But, but...I need to..."

"The Manor's library is all yours," he replied while standing up. "Might be a bit dusty in there, but you'll have fun. I know it's your kind, Miss Granger. But you are not leaving the grounds."

With that, he strolled from the room, as she sat, mouth hitting the ground. Before anger washed over her in a wave. How dare he?

Bonny rushed in, and asked in worry,

"Whats did yous do to the Master? Oh, dears..."

She then blushed, strange sight upon her greenish carnation, and called out,

"Pumpy, Colty!"

Two cracks were heard, and two furious voices resounded in the room. Hermione's eyes widened as two elves appeared. One was tall, and seemed to think much of himself, whereas the other one was short, plump, and beaming.

"How dares yous," screeched the tall one into the short one's face. "I dids not permits yous to enter in my rooms!"

"Oh, comes on," answered the short one, still grinning. "Can't takes a jokes, now, good olds butler?"

"Stops it," cut in Bonny, glaring at the tall one before blushing under the plump one's gaze. "Colty, coulds yous please bring missus back to hers rooms? And Pumpy," she giggled. "Coulds yous please stop playing pranks and go sees my son in the kitchens? Bonny must attends to the Master."

With that she popped away. The butler, the tall, lean one, turned to Hermione, something akin to admiration in his gaze, and bent so low that his sharp, pointed nose wiped the floor.

"So yous is the ones, missus," he breathed snottily. "Please, follows me. Colty is most honored, most honored indeed, to meet the missus."

"Wait a minute," cut harshly Hermione. "I must see your Master. We have not finished speaking, him and I."

The elf cast her a superior glance.

"If the Master wishes to speaks to yous, he shalls do so," he retorted coolly. "It is nots the missus' place to seeks out the Master."

"He didn't even have the intelligence to present me with a name," insisted Hermione as the elf trotted before her.

"Yous may calls him the Master. Others calls him the Beast. However, I shalls have Bonny ask hims a names to give yous."

"Oh, just spit it out already," she grumbled.

"We is arrived, missus. Good nights."

"Good nights indeed," she muttered before slamming the door in his face.

.

"She does not want to stay here, Bonny. Should I let her leave? My inner Veela is tearing me apart for hurting her by keeping her against her will."

"She needs time," soothed the Beast's favorite elf. "And Master shoulds tells his inner Veela that if he wants her near, he wills have to go through the sufferings. Besides, it is said that missus has a great hearts, how could she resists helping the Master?"

"Do not forget that Miss Granger and I have history, Bonny."

"Well, yours turns to makes amends, then." decided the elf.

"If it is not enough?"

Bonny's ears drooped and tears brimmed in her eyes before she managed,

"Please, Master..."

"I am sorry, Bonny. Just a little...nervous."

He inhaled the air, shuddering.

"I need her body under mine..."

.

Hermione did not see the Master again for another whole week. She spent that time traipsing around the Manor, talking to the house elves, and helping them work to keep dust away and return to the place a little of its ancient beauty, essentially because she needed the elves' company. Bonny was clearly the mistress around when the Master was out of sight. She was his confident too, and looked after cooking and washing. She was nice, soft and gentle, and as Hermione learned, Dobby's young sister.

Hermione was delighted to find out that the elf had a son, named Laddy. She had never seen a cub before, and Laddy was so nice, so smart and so cheeky for a house elf, that he was Hermione's only source of laughter. He would get into mischief and play games with her to amuse her. Colty, the butler, also helped with the washing. He was, as the young woman had predicted, quite full of himself, and issued of a kind of elfish nobility. Then, Pumpy was the plump gardener, the apple of Bonny's eye though they were both too shy to make a move, and a born prankster, making him Laddy's best mate. They could often be seen together, chuckling and plotting, under the others' wary eyes.

And they were all devoted to the Master, no matter what.

But Hermione spent most of her time in the library. It was full of dust and dark, and she had tasked Bonny to help her sort things out in there. Though her nature screamed at her to throw herself on the offered books and guard them jealously, she only read about Veelas and how they found their mates. For now, though she had learned several things new, she didn't know how to help her captor find his mate and thus, set her free. To arrest the conniving, sly bastard, of course.

Then, one evening, Colty presented himself with a set of pearl grey dress robes at her bedroom door, telling her that the Master wished her presence for dinner.

This time, Hermione did not throw a tantrum. Instead, she greedily donned the robes without care, and ran all the way down to the dining room, banging the door open with a temper.

"You!" she shouted, pointing a finger upon the hooded, cloaked man sipping wine at the table.

He raised an eyebrow, though she couldn't see it, and smirked.

"Why, hello, Miss Granger. I am quite pleased to find that you resented my absence badly."

She ignored his sarcastic comment, and stalked up to him, hands on her hips.

"Where did you go? Why did you leave me alone at the table the other night? Why only give me half the answers? Why? What do you really want of me?"

His eyes clouded over with lust as she hovered merely a couple of steps away. From here, her delicious, feminine scent was overbearing, and his voice was rauque with desire as his body turned rock-hard:

"Did you miss me?"

She shivered without knowing why. His voice was even more raspy than usual, and he had tensed under his layers of clothing. An unexpected surge of delight ran through her, and anticipation made her insides run warm. Her heartbeat sped up, and she felt the odd urge to throw herself in his arms and offer her naked body to him...now, where did that come from?

Besides, his question itself was more than banter and bite. A raw expectation hid itself just behind the sensuous undertones of his voice, though she was unable of deciding what he expected, exactly. Strangely, her own voice was strained as she replied quietly,

"No. Not one bit."

She felt guilty without knowing why, especially when the Master's hand came up an instant to hover over his heart, as if physically wounded. She felt the instant need to comfort him. It was strange. Was this the Veela charm operating its twisted magic upon her, though he had warned her of his hideous appearance? She wondered how long the man hadn't had a woman. Probably since he came into his heritage. A sudden image flashed through her mind, unstoppable: herself, bent over the table, being thoroughly fucked by the huge, hooded Veela's even huger cock. She licked her lips before mentally slapping herself. She needed to get away. The Master's allure was working its wicked way into her already slightly damp knickers.

He didn't seem to notice her fluster, which was better, as he was glaring unhappily into his goblet of red wine. She rejected him, and it hurt.

However, as she stepped away to sit on her chair, he scented it, and instantly, his senses went in overdrive. The sweet, slick, tangy scent of arousal. Not any arousal either, Hermione's arousal. His eyes immediately snapped up to her, almost feral in their intensity, and it took all of his human willpower not to leap on her and mate her on the table. He could almost taste it, bitter and sugary, on his lips, as he watched her serve herself a portion of beef pie. She was acting like nothing was wrong, except maybe for two tiny blushes in her cheeks. So, she was playing innocent while her underwear was wet for him, was she? He wondered what exactly had made her aroused. And decided to play a tad more on that ground, though not forgetting that if she was to see his monstrous face, she would run off screaming blue murder. In fact, he mused, it might even be worse if he showed her his true face, that of...he closed his eyes a second and focused upon her.

"So, any news about research, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head woefully.

"No. Nothing to help you, though of course, I've read more about Veelas here then anywhere else. The library is so interesting."

"It is," he agreed. "I'm proud of it."

She shot him a wary look.

"Proud? You have no right to be proud. This is not your home, it is that of the Malfoy family."

She sneered, though against his presumed trespassing or the Malfoy name he didn't know.

"Notion of propriety is a strange thing, darling," he replied before leaning towards her, "but you'll see what I mean later on."

His voice was a sin, she decided numbly as she bit back a moan. His perfume washed over her: cologne that she might have scented years ago, earth, and undoubtfully male. His mate was going to have a good time. He was coaxing a response out of her body by simply talking. Another rush of wetness sogged her knickers and she squirmed awkwardly upon the chair.

"Stop that," she managed to back out weakly.

"Stop what, Miss Granger?" he blinked innocently.

"Stop doing that...thing..." she murmured.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he answered slowly, before chewing a piece of meat. "Care to enlighten me, darling?"

"I'm not your darling," she snapped. "And stop using your Veela blasted pheromons to attract me sexually to you. I know you are doing this. You have a mate to find!"

"So, Miss Granger," he all but purred, "you are sexually attracted to me?"

"Shut up!" she retorted hotly, jumping to her feet and balling her hands into fists. "It would never happen would you not be able to pull that stunt! It's artificial. I mean, aren't there any laws against these things?"

He hummed in agreement, eyes sparkling.

"But you see, love," he finally answered. "When my curse was set to me, I also lost the ability of doing everything that could help me gain my potential female's heart. That includes looks, allure, and pheromons, dearest girl. So if your knickers are soaked through," he mocked in a low, growling tone, "it's all on you." He shovelled a piece of meat to his mouth before adding lewdly, "So, Miss Granger, you are sexually attracted to me?"

She had frozen, and upon hearing his mockery, turned suddenly and bolted for the door. As she reached the hall, still running and gasping, she heard his laughter follow her, and the last comment,

"Who's leaving dinner without answering correctly now, Miss Granger?"

.

Read and review, please.


	5. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone, here's the chapter. Thanks for your reviews. Short chapter as you've noticed, but there is a reason to that.**

**.**

"She was so wet for me," he moaned, head in his hands. "It would have taken me a bit of pushing and coaxing but I could have had her right there, on that table if I wanted so. And did I want it!"

"You is very courageous to, er, refrains, Master," comforted Bonny slowly, a bit out of her element. "She would haves left yous if yous had mated hers then told hers the truths. But she, er, wills not forget her arousals, and she wills be wanting yous maybe in the futures."

The Master sighed.

"You are right, of course," he muttered. "I am tired and sick of this game. Fetch me some brandy, Bonny, if you will, then you can retire for the night, thank you very much."

Bonny nodded and brought him his bottle of favorite brandy, before popping away. The Master flung his head back and drank from the bottle, gazing at the ceiling.

"Good night, my delicious mate," he whispered. "My beauty, my love, my Hermione."

.

Needless to say, Hermione was very, very unhappy.

How could she make such a fool out of herself downstairs? Was he lying about the sudden, unsuspected, unwanted lust that had pooled through her core like molten lava, something she'd never felt before? She had lusted after men, of course, and had had her fantasies, but this was unreal.

And scary.

Plus, the Master wasn't exactly a man, was he? Part Veela, part man...part monster. She wondered what he would look like without his hood on. Would he be that terrifying? Despite his kidnapping of her, he had been most discreet, and when present, had treated her as though she was a princess on an official visit or something.

More Hermione thought about the creature under the hood, more she needed to see him, to realise who exactly she was talking to. So when she found herself padding barefoot, in a nightdress, through the Manor, she didn't really remember getting up.

It was cold in the house, and outside, the wind was howling in the trees. She didn't know where she was going, but something, instinct maybe, told her to get to the west wing. The more she advanced, the more she saw broken furniture littering the ground, like skeletons of strange beasts. Portraits were ripped, rubble obstructed the floor, and curtains were strewn across the rugs. She shivered as she stopped in front of a closed door. She knew, simply, that the Beast was here.

She entered the room without second thought. It was a huge office, with broken window panes and the heavy oak desk was upturned. In front of the roaring fire, a seat was occupied by the giant figure of the Master. A glass of Whisky was placed upon a tray at his side, on the floor, and he was slumbering.

With trembling fingers, Hermione advanced a hand, and seized gently the hood. Before she could pull it back, however, the Beast's own gloved hand caught hers lightly. She gasped.

"Don't," growled the Master. "Miss Granger..."

"I need to," she replied hotly. "Please. I need to."

He chuckled darkly.

"You need to?" he repeated gruffly. "You'll regret it. You'll hate me even more than you do now. You do not need to see me, darling. Knowledge is enough."

"But I want to," she whined.

"You've never seen more ugly than I," he responded bitterly. "Never, love, trust me. You'll scream and run."

"I won't," she hissed.

"Gryffindor to the end, Miss Granger?"

"Indeed."

"Then do not complain," he hissed, rising to his feet, "when you see a face that shall haunt your nightmares."

And with that, he ripped off, with one single move, his cloak and hood, leaving himself in trousers and his torso bare.

Hermione gasped loudly, and took several steps back, eyes widening in horror.

The beast was enormous, hunchbacked, and covered from head to foot with thick brown fur. His small eyes were blood red, and his long muzzle ended in a giant mouth, with sharp teeth the size of sharks', in three rows. Several scars decorated his torso and back, coloring an ugly reddish pink. His hands had claws the length of a human finger, curling inwards. He towered over her, every single part of him a menace. Hermione's mouth opened in a silent screech. This was what she had desired? This was the creature she had been wet for? He was a strange monster, with some man-like features and others more bear and wolf.

"Told you," he rasped, and leaped away from her, smashing a fist the size of a football into a cupboard that moaned under the assault, as splinters flew everywhere. "I told you," he yelled, kicking a tremendous blow into a broken chair that blasted against the wall. "You wanted to see? Well look, scream, then laugh it off!" He continued hitting everything that came into his sight, bellowing. "I am a Veela, supposed to be beautiful!" Smash. "Instead, I am a horrid beast!" Crash. "My mate will never love me!" Bam. "I shall die in a few weeks!"

Hermione cowered in a corner of the room, more terrified by the Beast's awful temper than his awful appearance. He twirled her direction, panting, and barked out:

"Go! You hate me. You find me awful. Leave! The wards are up. Your wand is in your room. Take it, leave, and let me die in peace!"

He roared the last part before returning to his frenzy. Hermione whimpered, stood, and raced towards her room, her heart strangely breaking every step she took. She stormed into her room, saw her wand awaiting her on her bed, seized it as well as a cloak, and hurried down to the great door, ripping it open and running as fast as she could into the night. Once she wrenched the gate open, she jumped to the other side and held her wand up, ready to Apparate, panting. She glanced back once at the Manor, wondering if the Beast would follow and why her heart was yelling at her to get back inside, and heard the creature's heart-breaking screams of fury and sorrow. Then her name, howled out of its tortured lips.

"Hermione..."

She hesitated, lowering her wand. Stumbling, she took a step backwards.

And was immediately stopped by a soft growl behind her.

Slowly, Hermione turned round. A few feet from her was a big, silver furred, male wolf, baring its sharp teeth, yellow eyes glinting.

As she stilled, she heard noise around her, and several other members of the pack came out to join their leader, who was now carefully stalking her way. She gulped. It was too late to Apparate, and she couldn't simply flee for the gate to the security of the Manor: the animals would catch her half-way. She whimpered. What to do?

Suddenly, an inhumane roar resounded through the starry night, and the wolves yelped, turning immediately to race towards the forest. Blinking, Hermione turned around, and her eyes met those, red but full of sadness, of the Beast standing behind the gates. She approached softly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

The Master's eyes never left her.

"Goodbye," he replied softly, before turning towards the Manor.

"Wait!"

He stilled. What did the silly bint want now? Wasn't she horrified? Disgusted? Wanting nothing better than to leave? A tiny hand placed itself on his lower back and he glanced down, astonished, at Hermione's bewildered face.

"You scared me," she mentioned.

His face turned dark and he bit out,

"Yes, darling, I tend to do that to people."

"You scared me when you were throwing things around and punching things," she ignored his sarcasm. "And you yelled at me to leave so I did. I didn't want you to hurt me."

His face screwed in ugly desperation, then he became serious:

"I would never hurt you, Miss Granger."

She bit her lip and replied,

"Yes, well...I didn't know that, did I? Anyway. You have a mate to find and I...I would like to help you if...if you'd let me?"

He gazed at her strangely, before turning to look at her fully.

"Why do you do this, Miss Granger? I don't understand. I'm a monster. I abducted you. I kept you here against your will."

He managed to not say "and give me a chance I will fuck you so hard you'll never leave my bed again". She tutted.

"You don't know me, Sir. You suffer and I can help you. Leave me a chance."

He sighed.

"Darling..."

"Please."

He sighed again before giving up.

"All right. You may stay."

She cheered in silence as they walked up to the Manor. Before leaving him she asked,

"How may I call you?"

He turned a twisted, dark face her way.

"Call me as you want, love. If I told you what my real name is, you'd be sure to leave."

"No!" she stomped her foot. "No more of that. Tell me right now."

He grinned.

"Feisty, are we?"

She narrowed her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, please. I regret ever telling you that I wanted you in the least. I'm sure it was the pheromons. Beside, you won't touch me. You do have a mate."

"Perhaps, love," he whispered tenderly, "but admit that it is quite nice to have someone to desire you when you're as ugly as can be."

He caressed softly her cheek with a crooked claw, and to her stupor, she felt a wave of desire flush through her. How? Why? She knew he resembled a beast now. How could she possibly want him? Her lack of experience with men did not command her to want a monster, even if he was gentle and all!

"Your name," she bit out harshly, and thankfully, he retracted his hand.

"Meet me for dinner tomorrow," he replied quietly. "And I'll tell you then."

"All right, but I have a condition," she decided on the spur. "Spend time with me tomorrow."

His eyes widened.

"You want to spend time with me?"

She shrugged. Actually, she didn't care. But why not?

"Of course."

A smile twisted his lips and he nodded.

"Good night, then," she said.

He nodded as she took up the stairs and disappeared from his sight.

"Good night, my mate," he whispered.

Wasn't he the luckiest bastard ever?

**.**

**Read and review, please. Next chapter'll be published quicker than that.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Thanks for your reviews, everyone, and for your patience. Here's chapter 5, longer than the last. Good read.**

**.**

The next morning, the Beast was awoken by Bonny who waltzed into his room, humming and opening the curtains wide.

"Ups yous go, Master," she squeaked in his direction.

"Bonny," growled said Master, "what is the meaning of this?"

She scowled.

"Yous knows, Master! Missus Hermione is spending the days with yous! Now get ups, dressed, and gets yours arse out of heres!"

"Ordered around by my own house elves," muttered the Beast. "My parents would have a fit."

However, he jumped out of bed and hastily put his hood and cloak on, snapping his gloves on his fingers as he strolled down the corridors to the dining room, where Hermione was having breakfast. She met him with a coy smile.

"Hello," she murmured.

"Hello," answered the Master, his heart swelling as he sat down.

"You know," she giggled, "you don't need to wear all that attire around me anymore. I know what you look like. Besides, I don't care."

He seemed unsure.

"You mean that?"

"No, silly. I was kidding." She raised her hands in peace as he shot her a look. "Take it nicely, will you? Now undress. I know that you're not able to breathe under there."

He sighed, put finally pulled the cloak off. She smiled.

"There. I like to see people when I converse with them," she said.

The had a quiet breakfast, then Hermione turned towards him.

"What do you want to do today? We could go to the library and research..."

He scoffed.

"And why wouldn't we stay together and talk instead?" he proposed. "I'd like to get to know you."

She hesitated.

"I...that would be nice, but...you have a mate to find..."

"Miss Granger," he interrupted, "I've read all there is to know about Veelas in there. I turned near five years ago, remember?"

She swallowed.

"All right, then. Let's talk."

The Beast offered her a muscular, furry arm, and lead her to the library, where he introduced them to the warm hearth and a glass of brandy.

"So, Miss Granger..."

"Hermione," she butted in.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Call me Hermione," she explained.

"Hermione. Hermione. I like your name." They both grinned. "Now, Hermione, what to discuss?"

"Well, we could make it into a game or something," she suggested. "One question at a time, right? And if we don't want to answer..."

"We get a dare," he smirked. "Understood, love. Go on. Shoot."

She wriggled in her plump armchair. She loved those endearing names he gave her. Love, darling, dear...it made her insides warm up. She sipped her brandy and started slowly,

"Well, I don't know even your name, so it's a bit difficult. Right. Where are you born?"

He looked down to his glass and replied.

"I can't answer that."

"You...can't?"

"No," he replied firmly. "Too much information. Give me a dare."

"Mh," she answered softly. "Well, I dare you...to...oh, I don't know. I dare you to answer my next question, no matter what."

He tensed, but nodded curtly.

"How did you know that I could help you find your mate?"

His eyes closed. How could he answer that without giving out the truth? Instead, he replied smoothly,

"Well, it's not because I don't leave this place that I don't know what's going on outside. My elves have contact with the world and tell me about it. War hero Hermione Granger becoming the youngest Department Head ever wasn't to go unnoticed."

"I see."

"My turn, darling," he smirked darkly. "Any love interest out there?"

She blushed and turned her nose down to her glass. How to explain to this stranger that she was still a virgin? Partly by choice, yes, because she had never met that special someone, and believed in love lasting ever after, even though that seemed to surprise many people these days. Partly also because fighting through a war then concentrating upon becoming a famous Ministry worker wasn't the easy way to go about having a love life. She had fancied Ron, and he had as well, but it turned out to be little more than an interest sparked by several life-threatening situations. Harry had Ginny, and it was thus natural that Ron and Hermione seeked out relief in each others' arms.

"None," she replied lightly.

His eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, please," he growled, ignoring the stab of jealousy that seared his heart in two, but wanting to know for sure if she was telling the truth. After all, even if she hadn't been his mate, he had been single for long enough to take an interest in her. She was a clever girl, and knew that speaking about other men to a Veela could spike his competitive nature, as well as his need to prove himself to her...sexually. "A pretty girl like you surely has someone in her life, yes?"

"Not at all," she smiled. "I only had a couple of brief, peaceful, dull relationships as a teenager. It never went far."

That was all she was ready to tell him. He gazed at her thoughtfully, and she squirmed.

"So, er...my turn. Who cast you this spell?"

There she went again, asking questions he couldn't answer without giving himself away.

"A witch," he replied vaguely. "She sided with You-Know-Who during the first and second war. She was a well-known Death Eater. Anyway, she's dead now, and I seriously hope that the Devil himself is roasting her fucking soul on a bonfire."

Hermione managed to hear the hurt in her captor's voice, and she smiled to appease him. He nodded and asked,

"So, Head. Why such ambition?"

"When I was at Hogwarts, I met this house elf. His name was Dobby."

Hermione was oblivious to his nervous state as she went on,

"He was very badly treated by his master, Lucius Malfoy, the former owner of this place. Anyway, I became interested with the house elves case. I created S.P.E.W, to help them. I met other elves after that as well, so when I graded from Hogwarts, I decided to work with Magical Creatures. After that, it was quite easy, really. But I know why I wanted to do this. As a Muggle-born, a lot of wizards are still convinced that I have nothing to do in this world. Many think that I used Harry's friendship and my own war hero card to worm my way up easily. It's not true, but still, it hurts. Anyway, I have always been considered by many as unworthy. I felt I had something to prove. There was this boy in school. Strange thing is, he was also former owner of this place. Draco Malfoy. Such scorn and hatred from a young boy was what hurt the most. He made me feel, excuse the word, like shit. And the saddest part is, I loved him."

The Beast almost knocked his brandy all over his knees. He could tell Hermione was getting drunk, but he also needed to know what she had to say.

"You were in love with Draco Malfoy," he repeated slowly. "The one person who taunted and tainted you."

"Silly, isn't it? But there you have it. He was truly awful, but I couldn't help myself. He had the most beautiful eyes, and hair like pure, silver silk. He was built like a deity. It wasn't fair that he was so good-looking. Besides, even if he ever wanted to join, he could't. His father was a notorious Death Eater, and his mother was a supporter of the Dark side. His path was written for him before even his birth. Anyway, I fancied him. I dreamed about him." She smiled darkly. "He's the only person I remember having a wet dream of."

Oh, yeah. And if she didn't stop right now, he was going to ravish her on the rug at their feet, all be damned. She fancied him. Even better, she was in love with him. Her one and only, she'd said. Could he hope to breathe upon those embers and spark them to a flame again?

"What happened?" he asked, voice rauque.

"Well, the war happened, that's what. Draco was branded a Death Eater, and I was a supporter of Harry and the Order of the Phoenix. That cut any dreams of happiness with him I ever had. I was heart-broken. I got over it. The war was raging, and when it was finally over, well, I guess that I just found out I had moved on."

There was a long silence, then Hermione sighed and tipped the last drops of brandy into her mouth.

"It was stupid. Having a crush on my worst enemy could have destroyed me, destroyed us. Imagine if he had managed to guess out my infatuation, and used it against me? Voldemort could have ordered him to seduce me to use me, and I would have fallen like an idiot."

Finally, the Master stood.

"I suggest you get ready for dinner, Hermione. You shall be finding out news you won't like."

He sweeped out of the room, his cologne permuting the air and invading her nostrils. She breathed it in like her life was on the line. It was husky, dark, and expensive. She gulped as her traitor nipples pebbled. How could this creature have such effect on her? The last person to have done that had been Draco Malfoy. She used to go weak in the legs when he stalked past her. Their fights would leave her brain screaming in rage and hatred, her heart bleeding, and her core throbbing. It was incredible that the Beast managed to do the same.

Probably a Veela trick. She brushed it off.

.

"I'm going to tell her tonight about my identity, Bonny."

The elf stopped bustling around her Master and levered round, golf-ball eyes upon him.

"Bonny thinks that the Master is doings the good things. Misses is very curious abouts Master's identity."

"She will hate me, Bonny. She confessed earlier that she used to be in love with Draco fucking Malfoy when we were at school. I treated her like shite."

"She has accepted tos befriends a Beast," said Bonny wisely, "she cans well befriends another. Yis, she shalls rejects you at first. It is up to yous to win hers heart."

"But that is not the only problem," sighed the Master. "She does not know that she is my mate."

"Ands Master should nots tell her yet," replied gently Bonny. "Waits until she accepts yous."

.

Hermione was always breathtaking to him, but when she came down the stairs in that pretty Slytherin green ball gown that the snarky Bonny had saved from Narcissa's stuff, the Beast's breath caught in his chest. He seated her, then served her wine. She thanked him softly and he sat.

"Let's leave the great talk for after dinner, shall we?" he asked. "Bonny has whipped up a feast. And even Laddy, I heard, made the icing for the cake."

"I shall await it greatly, then."

The dinner was indeed excellent, and they talked only of mundane things such as the weather, the best way to grow a Chilliwig Plant without getting poisoned, and the inner workings of the Ministry. Finally, when the last crumble had been devoured, the Beast knew that he couldn't leave it any longer. Hermione crossed her hands expectantly.

"Hermione," he started. "Before I tell you anything, I want you to know that your happiness and well-being means more than anything to me. You are free to leave at any moment. You mean much more to me than anything in this whole world."

She blushed in pleasure, but added, with a sour undertone that made his heart flip in joy,

"Apart your mate, of course."

He smiled.

"Naturally, darling."

His palms were sweaty, and he balled his fists, before standing abruptly. He stalked to the door before turning around, staring her in the eye.

"This curse was put upon me after my birth by Bellatrix Lestrange as a stupid mundane vengeance against my parents, who were only responsible of having a child when she couldn't. I am born in this Manor. My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, and I'm a cursed half Veela who has lived alone in this abandoned house for the past five years after my parent's death, and I cannot mingle with society for you, my dear, are the only person who's ever seen me this way without screaming your lungs out and running or trying to kill me. I'm sorry for abducting and scaring you. I'm sorry for deceiving you. I'm sorry for being such a dick in school. I'm sorry for what happened during the war. But I'm not sorry that you got to see a tiny piece of the real me. I'm not sorry that I got to know you. I'm not sorry that you'll probably be the last person I see before I die. And no need to get crazy at me, Hermione. Because I already feel like a douchebag enough. The door is open. You can leave when you want. Goodbye, love."

And he slipped out of the dining room, leaving a white-faced, trembling, reduced to silence Hermione behind him.

**.**

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